


The Benefits of Fever

by DisorientedOwl



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Post-Canon, drug mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9612566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisorientedOwl/pseuds/DisorientedOwl
Summary: It's a post-war world and Shockwave is doing his best to thrive. But when Optimus' medic is found in bar in his nefarious neighborhood, he must make the decision to help his old prisoner, or leave him to his own devices.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A set up for the next few chapters. Vomit mention

     Shockwave blamed his oversight on the many hours of working alone. Even on the Nemesis, the indigo mech worked in solitary. He recharged alone. He refueled alone. In every moment he had found solace away from the noise and destruction of the other Decepticons;  _alone._

     Which is why he took the sample from the lab. He never had to worry about another mech touching anything.

     “Shockwave?”

     Shockwave absentmindedly lifted his weaponized arm in response. His servo was busy thumbing through a datapad that flashed formula after formula. His prisoner was rather mild mannered. More than likely planning some deception after the completion of the formula. Shockwave had other things to process.

     “Do I get rations?” Ratchet’s inquisition was nothing out of the ordinary. Decepticon’s weren’t known for being good hosts.

     “Yes.” Shockwave made a mental note to assist Ratchet once he was done. But the sound of the medic gulping something down broke Shockwave’s lethal concentration.

     Shockwave spun just to see the Autobot finish off the last of the sample Shockwave set aside. Of course, the red and white medic wouldn’t find it out of place. This wasn’t a lab. Ratchet set it down and frowned. “Tastes a little off.”

 “Purge.” Shockwave ordered his prisoner.

     “What?” He looked quizzically over to the Decepticon, now menacingly stalking towards him.

_“Purge.”_

     Ratchet obediently pulled up his systems and attempted a purge, but his tanks were practically empty. His survival function denied it, “I…I can’t. I was low.”

     Shockwave’s optic was unreadable, but his shoulders hiked, “That was not energon. It was a sample of synthen. Purge.”

     Ratchet shuddered, his systems throwing out a warning as the potentially tainted energon began pumping through his frame. Again he requested a purge, but none came.

      “What is a sample doing outside the lab?” Ratchet did his best to keep the panic from his voice box, doing well to sound angry.

     “It is an oversight that I will not repeat.” Shockwave’s voice remained even.

     The Autobot fell to his knees as the synthen reached his systems. Shockwave knew there was no solution in panicking. He also knew that Megatron would be extremely angry if the Autobot went gray before a proper solution. He could not allow that to happen.

     Shockwave wasn’t too keen on touching other mechs, even when it was work related. He first attempted to right the Autobot, picking him up under the shoulder plating. It was then he noted how hot Ratchet was running. On his knees, the Autobot remained stable. His optics were also blinking on and off, as if they were shorting out from the energy running through the white mech.

     “Ratchet.”

     It took a few calls, but eventually Ratchet weakly tilted his helm up to look at Shockwave.

      “Please do your best to describe your symptoms while I attempt a manual purge.” Perhaps there could be some scientific yield from this fiasco.

     “I’m very warm.” Ratchet’s voice came out with harsh whines of electrical interference mixed in. Shockwave gripped the Autobots chin, roughly lifting it.

     Ratchet's systems were doing their best to disperse the heat. Nonetheless, his intake expelled hot steam as the Autobot panted out. His optics glowed dimly and remained out of focus. Shockwave hesitated. Then awkwardly attempted to shove his slender fingers deep within Ratchet’s intake.

      As Shockwave slide his slender digits down he met resistance from the Autobot's glossa. He tried again, forcing his digits deeper hoping to be rewarded with anything, a soft gagging or even a cough. But it didn’t work. The purple mech removed his digits, knowing he would have to be more forceful.

     “You’re going to have to put something bigger in there before I’ll gag.” Ratchet panted out.

     Shockwave liked to believe that phrase innocuous, or even informative, given their situation. But he had just been patched into Ratchet’s neural net and he knew the medic to be sardonic at the worst of times. The undertone of that phrase made Shockwave’s processor lag for a klik before he viciously forced his digits down the medics’ throat.

     Ratchet finally purged.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Canon begins.  
> Ratchet/Shockwave.

     Shockwave had an uncanny knack for survival, something he wasn’t too sure he was grateful for. He was a relic from the past sitting in a relatively neutral zone of Cybertronian controlled space. The noise of the bar was rather overbearing. Cybertronians still hadn’t gotten the knack for music and what was coming from the speakers sounded more like an overblown circuit than any semblance of tune. Shockwave didn’t care, he was waiting for someone.

     Rather, _something_ important.

     Now that Cybertron was revitalized, Shockwave was finding it easier to gather parts he needed for an assortment of projects, some illegal. The one part that Shockwave had been craving for all these years was supposed to be here tonight; an ocular lens.

     The crack wasn’t that noticeable on the outside, but Shockwave detested the way it could ruin his concentration on his work.

“Hey.”

     It was a hushed voice that whispered next to him, he turned his helm slightly before realizing the soft exclamation was not for him.

     “Do you see that medical unit over there?”

      The scientist didn’t want to pay attention, it was traditional bar talk. But they were using his girth to hide their secretive conversation. He had no choice to overhear their useless information. There was a red, young looking bot and another purple bot conversing next to him.

     “Whoa, is that a pre-war model?” There was a few giggles, “No way, really?”

     “Don’t you think you should go for something a little newer?” The purple one scoffed, pushing the red one slightly.

     “No way man! He is top of the line. He must be trying to drink his war wounds away.”

     Shockwave perked at that and scanned the room with his menacing glare. When he finally found the subject of their conversation, it was an unexpected result.

     Of all Autobots; Ratchet stood, happily chatting to another mech. Shockwave glanced down just as the red bot slipped something into the energon drink and strolled away.

 _It’s not your business._ He lectured himself gently. He needed his lens. Now was not the time to be that Autobot's savior. He had his team.

 _He doesn’t have Optimus._ His logic processors pointed out. _And the rest of his team is nowhere in sight. He is alone._

     The scientist squared up his shoulders before tossing a look over at the medic, who had no idea the two bots were targeting him.

     Shockwave watched as they chatted amicably. The younger bots were probably piling on well founded flattery. Logically, Ratchet responded kindly and accepted the drink from their servos. Shockwave watched as he drank the liquid, reminded of another time the idiot consumed something he shouldn’t.

     It was none of his concern. The Autobots were his enemies.

_But we aren’t in war._

     Shockwave muttered out, mostly to himself, “Illogical.”

     He bent over to speak low to the bartender, wrapping up his tab and affairs before stalking up behind the two ruffians. Of course, Ratchet saw him first. Even in his highly charged state he knew to feel fear. He engaged his melee weaponry as the large, one handed bot pushed aside the younger ones. “Perhaps we should take this outside, Autobot.”

      Ratchet appraised him with clear optics and nodded, sheathing his weapons. Shockwave threw up his weaponized arm and addressed the brats lingering, “Do not follow.”

     From behind, Ratchet did not look so well. It wasn’t as if during the war he was the pinnacle of brightness, but it seemed in this moment his shoulders sagged more than normal. Then again, that could be because of his presence.

“Alright,” Ratchet barked out, “What do you want, Shockwave?”

      “Purge.”

     Ratchet tilted his helm, surprise clear on his faceplate, “I’m sorry?”

     “Those bots put something in your drink.” Shockwave leaned down threateningly over the Autobot, pointing at him with his one servo, “Purge.”

     “I don’t follow your commands anymore.” Ratchet was drunker than Shockwave first predicted. To give Ratchet credit, he did carry himself very well for being blasted. “I’m going to go back in there and have a nice time.”

     The science bot lingered on the thought of going back inside, picking up his lens, and leaving this Autobot to his fate. This whole ‘saving’ thing wasn’t going as well as planned. But the indigo mech reflected on a time before the war; when Decepticons were the only ones taken advantage of like this. Times certainly changed. “Negative. Come with me.”

     Shockwave grabbed Ratchet with his servo and led him away. Ratchet, ever full of surprises, made no move to stop the big bot. For now, he would take the medic to his quarters. The lens could wait.

     Shockwave threw Ratchet into his small ship, wondering if it had enough fuel to carry the both of them. He didn’t care. The indigo bot found himself getting more and more angry.

     “Where are your team members?”

     Ratchet shrugged. “Who knows?”

     Shockwave growled. They should be taking care of this rust bucket, not him. Where was the protégé Bumblebee? Why wasn’t Bulkhead or his wreckers or Arcee doing their duty to the one who had cared for them all those years during the war?

     Shockwave powered the thrusters to full. He was in a hurry to get home where he could take care of Ratchet properly.

  * -



     They finally arrived at Shockwave’s lab and quarters. It wasn’t much to look at but then again; Shockwave didn’t need much for innovation or work. He dragged Ratchet through the front door and set him carefully on the berth before turning around and latching the entranceway. The room was dark, only powered by computer light and Ratchet’s ever bright optics.

_Why is he here?_

     Everything up until this point seemed logical to Shockwave. Save the Autobot and bring him to the only safe space he knew. But this was still an enemy, there was no assurance once Ratchet sobered up he wouldn’t bring the Autobot police force crashing down on him.

“Shockwave.”

     The Decepticon stepped forward, “Yes?”

     “I feel its effects, you were right.” Ratchet put a servo to his helm, “But I feel at this point it would be better to wait it out. It shouldn’t be toxic.”

     The dark purple mech towered over the medical unit. He inspected his white frame carefully before touching his helm, “I suggest a purge of your fluids.”

     Ratchet waved his servo, “Yes, yes. I see. I’m sorry I rather enjoy the feeling of being energized so I’m not going to purge.”

     Shockwave used his gun to brace the medic. He didn’t care at this point, he had forced the Autobot to purge once before.

     Ratchet caught his servo, an expected setback, but it wasn’t to stop him. In fact, Ratchet brought the beautifully etched hand to his faceplate, rubbing softly against it for just a moment. Shockwave, entranced, allowed it.

     He had heard energon laced drugs tended to over stimulate bots. Ratchet was no exception to this rule. All the better to remove the offender from his patient's lines. But Shockwaves processor stopped exploring those options when Ratchet took one of his digits into his mouth.

     Shockwave tilted his helm and focused his optic on what the Autobot was doing. His glossa laved gently around the digit before sucking on it. Shockwave’s protocols gave him a heads up and he jerked away, but his digit remained covered in Ratchet’s oral fluids.

     “It will take something bigger than that to gag me.” Ratchet said softly, causing a memory to replay.

     It was impossible that he was flirting with him. Then again, Ratchet did have a preference for… _larger_  frames.

_Optimus is no longer here._

     Shockwave bent over the white mech, who ran a bit hot, “You have a fever.”

     Ratchet’s optics flickered, “That’s not a fever Shockwave.”

     His face was so close to Shockwave’s large red optic. His beautiful optics looked directly at him and he found his servo grasping at the Autobot’s shoulder. If it was any other mech, Shockwave would have taken it at face value. But he had been in Ratchet’s head once upon a time, and he knew exactly what the Autobot was thinking.


	3. Chapter 3

“No.”

     Shockwave remained authoritative towards the Autobot, he was under the influence and in no position to be making demands, even though he voiced none.

     Ratchet arched up and bit at Shockwaves’ lower face protrusion. The scientist didn’t pull away. Doing so would cause damage. The purple bot felt Ratchet’s hot exhale against his neck cabling when the Autobot pulled away.

     “Illogical.” Shockwave pointed out. He would have to withdraw from the overcharged medic. The drugs and energon in his system could lead to less than satisfactory results. He gently pushed Ratchet away, affirming that he would not be tangled up Ratchet’s mad affairs. He should have called for someone to pick up the wayward medic at the bar. He turned his back to walk away.

    “Wait, please.” Ratchet grabbed Shockwave’s cable, causing the purple Decepticon to whirl furiously on him. Ratchet threw up his servos in an ‘I surrender’ motion.

     “Why?”

     Ratchet looked down, shifting slightly to draw his knees up, “I don’t want to be alone.”

     Shockwave knew that the Autobot would not have professed this without outside influence, which was probably why he was in an outlying bar with no friends but the cube.

     “Please, I won’t try anything. If you want me to….” Ratchet was obviously shamed as he ducked his head low and murmured, “L-let off some energy I will, but please just stay with me; here.”

     “There is no need. You are lonely.” Shockwave stated flatly, _Him being lonely is not your problem._

     “Please.”

     The indigo mech wanted to say no, it would be the smart thing to do. In fact, he should kick out this interloper while he still had the chance. “Very well.”

     Shockwave sat with a _whumph_ on the edge of the berth. “Recharge will not occur quickly. I will remain here until it does.”

     Ratchet inspected the back of the mech, in his buzzed state he found his broad shoulders familiar beside the obvious fins jutting out from the top. He reached forward to touch them only to pull his servo away guiltily as Shockwave turned his helm. “I do not like being touched without permission.”

     “Oh, may I touch you then?”

“No.”

     Ratchet vented out and lay down, Shockwave felt his heat radiating, “Can I at least hold your servo?”

“Why?”

     Ratchet let out a soft noise, “They’re gorgeous.”

     Shockwave paused. He was doing so much for the bot, but he begrudging held out his servo. Ratchet made a happy noise and greedily grasped at it.

     “Stop.” Shockwave wanted to lecture the medical unit, but once he shifted to look at the happy mech he realized it would be useless. The Autobot was faded.

     Suddenly, Ratchet twisted the purple servo away. The Decepticon took it as an attack and quickly engaged his weapon protocols, pushing down the Autobot and pointing his gun out, his spark beating feverishly.

     Ratchet merely laughed and _bonked_ his helm against the weapon. Shockwave could feel the heat radiating off the Autobot and it was starting to drive his processor up the wall. “Desist. We are not protoforms.”

     The scientist wasn’t keen on touching, but it seemed as if Ratchet was _very_ keen on touching him. He would have to find a solution, “What will make you recharge?”

      _Perhaps he could knock the Autobot unconscious._

     “Just lie next to me and let me hold your servo. I’ll fall asleep. That’s what….” Ratchet trailed off, his optics losing focus.

      “You are asking too much.”

      “Sssh.” Ratchet was too far gone at this point. He clasped Shockwave’s servo between both of his, clutching it to his helm like a prayer.

      Shockwave realized if he didn’t want to deal with these problems, he should have never removed the Autobot from the bar.

      Shockwaves’ audials perked up as he heard a strange hum from the Autobot’s engines. Ratchet was examining Shockwave’s servo now, tracing over its glowing lines whilst humming a very Earthian tune. Shockwave pulled away his weapon, using it to slightly brace himself to shuffle closer. As Ratchet continued to hum, Shockwave became transfixed by the sound and the sight of gentle servos moving over his.

     Shockwave reached out, perhaps to dissuade Ratchet from continuing his gentle touches, and pressed a digit to Ratchet’s intake. Shockwave wondered where that soft, melodic rumble originated from. The noise did not go away when he pressed Ratchet's intake closed. The slow thrum merely vibrated softly around them. Shockwave remembered the talk of young bots; Ratchet was top of the line, a premium mech. He found himself agreeing with them. Ratchet never seemed to age, he was lightweight but very dexterous. His coloring was nice and his optics stare unwavering up at him. Shockwave recalled a time when those optics were not as strong and found himself liking Ratchet at his worst more.

     Shockwave realized suddenly that he had been gently caressing Ratchet’s faceplate and pulled away suddenly. He also hadn’t realized that the medic had fallen silent and was merely smiling gently up at the violet Decepticon.

     “That was nice.”

     “Recharge.”

     Ratchet stretched up, exposing his midriff cabling slightly before lifting a little and draping himself on Shockwave. “Desist.”

     “Just lie with me, until I slip under.” Ratchet spoke low and huskily, “There’s no harm in it.”

     “You have a cycle.” Shockwave threatened, doing his best to remove the assortment of limbs Ratchet attached around him, “Then, I leave.”

     Ratchet laughed in delight and with surprising strength dragged Shockwave down onto the berth. He nuzzled his helm under Shockwave’s, who remained in shock from the sudden change. The indigo bot wondered if he should remove his weapon from the berth but the medic seemed content to lay on it. Shockwave settled down, deciding to drape his servo over the medic protectively for now, he could extract the medic from his frame once the Autobot finally fell into recharge.

  * -



     Shockwave woke suddenly, not realizing while in Ratchet’s warm embrace, he too had allowed himself a few cycles of recharge.

     Ratchet was very much asleep, the drugs finally working in Shockwaves favor as he de-tangled himself from the war-medic’s grasp. The white and red Autobot turned away, murmuring something unintelligible.

     Alone, Shockwave could reason out what to do with this Autobot. Shockwave knew his privacy could be at risk. He should take the napping problem child out and dump him somewhere safe and send a heads up to his crew. Then again, where could Shockwave go that would be safe for the medic?

     Ratchet murmured again. The violet bot noted he had been less restless in Shockwave’s arms. More tame.

     Shockwave had work to do. He would have to find another lens. He would have to repair himself. He didn’t have time to deal with this Autobot.

     Shockwave drew back the covers of the berth and slipped beneath before drawing Ratchet into his servos again. The white and red mech vented happily and murmured some sweet nothing. Shockwave rested his helm against his shoulder and allowed himself few thoughts before drifting into recharge.


End file.
